


I Married My Best Friend. Ironically.

by Laurasauras



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-07-16 11:52:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16085558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: John and Dirk are spare wheels as far as their very coupled off friends are concerned. They get paired off as the only single ones in the group and get close. And then they get married, as a joke, as a fuck you to their friends who want them to settle down and as a way to solidify their beautiful bromance. It's the biggest game of gay chicken you've ever seen. It ends happily ever after.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This all started because [homeskidaddle](https://homeskidaddle.tumblr.com/) wrote a great post about exactly this concept. It was too cute to resist!

Dave, Karkat and Jade are dating. Which is fine. Fantastic even. You're very happy that your bro has come to terms both with his not-straight-ness and also with his unconventional relationship. It's just ... It was awkward enough when it was just Dave and Karkat, neither of whom do PDAs on their own, but Jade thrown into the mix and suddenly you're struggling to make it through a dinner with them. 

Thankfully, John gets invited along a lot too, so you're not a total fourth wheel. The first time it happened, you were awkward, seeing him just as a carbon copy of Jake, but he's so different that you don't even consciously think of them as whatever version of relative they've settled on calling each other.

You first suspected that you were being set up the very first time you conveniently ended up sitting next to him at Dave's house. Though that might be the paranoia.

Thing was, Dave was acting all concerned about the amount of time you spent out of the house and the variety of people you spent time with and then all of a sudden you're sitting next to a cute boy while Karkat cooked and Dave and Jade made heart eyes at each other. You were willing to resort to talking to a relative stranger to avoid seeing your bro get his mack on with a dog girl like he couldn't wait until after the lasagna was served. John had beaten you to the awkward topic change with just as much grace as you've now come to expect from him.

'Wanna see a magic trick?' he'd asked with a slightly manic expression. 

You'd taken a card from the offered deck and had been so fucking insulted when he had managed to fool you with whatever bullshit slight of hand he was using. You honestly expected after fighting deadly drones your whole life to be able to keep up with a dorky shuffle. At some point, you became so absorbed in his _completely fake_  magic that you didn't notice your bro leaving the table with his two date-mates. 

You and John had made the mutually beneficial decision to leave before they invited you to stay for a movie and cuddled up together. Afterwards, standing on their porch and feeling really not socially equipped to deal with goodbyes, John had made you promise to be a team if that ever happened again.

It did.

Not just with Dave, Karkat and Jade. Rose and Kanaya went from being normal friends to utterly unbearable after Kanaya proposed. Jake and Jane got together and had a suspicious number of sleepovers with Roxy and Callie. You and John ended up sat together by default.

Most of the time it's fine. It's less amusing when Rose sends her wedding invitation to you addressed as if you're a couple, a package deal. Misters Egbert and Strider.  _And_ she put his name first. You know she knows that you're not going to blink first on this one. You know that if you confront her about this she'll have a lot to say about alphabetical order and saving paper by combining invitations and you feel like screaming just imagining that conversation.

You're staring at the envelope when Dave opens the door to your house and walks past you to help help himself to whatever the fuck is in your fridge without acknowledging you. It kind of actually makes you feel weirdly gooey that he's comfortable enough to do that, and you have a similarly weird gooey feeling at the fact that you absolutely also have "real" sibling annoyance that he does it at the same time.

'You know I don't own any food, right?' you say. 'I mooch off the people who actually know how to take care of themselves.'

'Lame,' Dave says.

He takes an energy drink and pours it into two glasses sliding one to you across the table like he's a bartender. You take a sip even though you probably shouldn't. It's been a while since you've slept. Still, Dave can't handle a full energy drink at any time of the day and your body basically treats them like water now, you'll take one for the team so he can sleep tonight. 

'What'cha got there, bro?' he asks. 

You throw it to him and he snatches it out of the air easily. He snorts with amusement as he reads it.

'It's not funny,' you say.

'It's pretty funny.'

You groan and drop your head to the table. Dave drops the invite and scooches his chair around with an awful grating noise so that he can knock his shoulder to yours.

'Does it seriously bother you?' he says quietly. 'Cause I can get Rose to back off. Get you a new invite before John even finds out. I may even be able to stop her from taunting you about it endlessly.'

You groan louder into the table before straightening up and rubbing your nose where the plastic doodads from your shades dig in. You control yourself into a state of normal coolness. You decide that Dave deserves a degree of sincerity.

'It's fine,' you say. 'I mean, you're right, she'll either torture me over it or I'll obsess over the possibility of her torturing me over it. It's better that we steer into the skid.'

Dave meets your eyes and then immediately looks to where his fingers are drumming out a beat on the table. He's not great with eye contact. You knock your shoulder to his to return his gesture from before. It felt very brotherly when he did it. You're not sure you pull it off. You wonder if Hal will run some projections on the best way to casually touch your friends and family or if that defeats the purpose of "casual". You could probably pass it off as ironic. 

'Kinda sounds like she's bullying you when you put it like that,' he says.

'Dude. I don't think anyone is capable of bullying me. It's me.' You continue before Dave can interrupt you with anything asinine, not that you have anything against his rambles. 'Anyway, I am a master of irony. I'll ironically bro-date John. Hell, it's practically been sanctioned by God herself.'

He looks at the table with tight, concerned brows. 

'Okay, but keep in mind that John's the king of no-homo. Don't ... get hurt.'

You hesitate while you consider how incredibly uncomfortable you are with this conversation. And then you reach out and squeeze his hand anyway because he doesn't deserve to pay for your social awkwardness. He grabs the tip of your fingers back briefly before you take your hand away to clap his shoulder manfully. You stand abruptly and walk away to get a glass of water you don't need to cover your awkwardness. No one is fooled.

'Okay. Okay.' You take a breath. 'I'm just gonna send him a pic of the invite. Ask him if he wants to wear a dress or me. Or if we're gonna really mix things up by going both dresses. Or both suits. All viable ironic options. Oh god. Shit. Can you do it?'

He snorts.

'Sure, I've been playing gay chicken with Egbert for half my life now. It's a fucking art. Hang this shit in the Louvre. Like, in the good spot, too, right up the front where the upside down pyramid is. Oh damn, has anyone made the Louvre on this Earth? I mean, not like it's a priority for me seeing as I'm trashy A-F, but I feel like we owe it, you know, to the world. Shit, if there isn't a glass pyramid museum in Paris, does it even deserve being called Earth? Well, presumably dinosaurs still called it Earth before humans invented the Louvre. Ha, no, that was a pretty dumb thing to say.'

'Dave, you said Louvre a different way every time just now and I don't think any were right.'

He ignores you in favour of typing on his phone. He giggles after a minute. You carefully don't give any indication that you heard him even as your inner nerd delights in seeing a human side to your idol. To your bro. To Dave. He giggles again, his thumbs moving so fast you almost can't track the movements. He's very practiced at typing fast enough to get a proper ramble out before he's interrupted. 

He puts it down after a bit and grins at you. He's so much more emotive than you expected. 

'Okay, so I pushed for you both to be wearing dresses a bit too hard,' he says. 'So it's suits. Which, ugh, lame. It's fine, though. Hey, you wanna go suit shopping with me? I think it'll be really funny if you choose your own suit and don't tell anyone else apart from me what you chose, just let your instincts do the work.'

'Fuck you,' you say half-heartedly. 'Is it sorted, though? He's ... going with me?'

'Yeah, man. I mean, don't expect anything, he isn't gonna fall in love with you during the slow dance. But he won't pick up while you're his "date" either. Not like there'll be anyone to pick up anyway. God damn you two really are spare wheels, aren't you?'

You punch him in the shoulder and leave the kitchen for your lounge, starting up your SkaiaNet console and dropping Dave's controller on the couch next to you. He joins you after a minute, smirking at his phone as he texts and walks. You know for a fact that Karkat's banned him from doing that, but you don't pull him up on it. 

'You should actually hang out with him more,' Dave says, way too casually once you start the race. 'I mean, I love chilling with you, but you don't get out enough.'

You start to protest that you were hanging out with Roxy just the other day, but then you remember that you haven't slept in at least 60 hours and you hadn't talked to anyone before Dave walked into your house uninvited. He doesn't force you to speak and you let the silence happen like you don't with anyone who isn't him. Eventually, after soundly kicking your ass, he flicks to television and you find yourself struggling to keep your eyes open. You wake up hours later in your bed with your shoes and shades still on. You'll send an ironic thank you card to Dave once you've gotten just a bit more sleep, you think, barely managing to get yourself undressed before you fall asleep again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John helps Dirk get ready for Rose and Kanaya's wedding. There's no sexual tension, neither of them would allow that kind of thing to come in between their perfectly platonic broship.

Apparently Kanaya didn't think it would be funny if you were left in control of your clothes, even though Dave assured her at length that it would be. You were planning on just going shopping with Jane, the natural authority on suits, so that you wouldn't fuck it up. Kanaya approved of that plan and also insisted that you get ready with someone who actually knows how to tie a bow tie. Apparently clip-ons are not an option. Rose helpfully pointed out that your date for the wedding was raised by a fine gentleman just as much as Jane.

So you're getting ready with John. Who, as much as he likes to play tricks, loves Rose too much to do anything except take this incredibly serious. Who trusts your ability to get dressed apparently as much as the rest of your friends. Which is to say, he does not trust your ability to get dressed. 

You can't wait to get to the wedding so that you can complain to Jade and Jake, who are similarly supervised. Albeit by their actual datemates, which seems to you to be a lot less patronising, but no one asked you. Which was also patronising. 

John doesn't trust you with a single aspect of your getting ready process. He arrives at Seven! O! Clock! in the morning, ignoring the fact that you most certainly didn't invite him inside because you were still  _sleeping_ and also ignoring that a man's bedroom is his own personal space. He jumps on you when you try and pretend you're still asleep. His knocking already woke you up, but it's the principle of the thing. 

You stubbornly keep your limbs relaxed and your eyes closed as John bounces on the bed next to you. 

'Diiiiiiiiiirk!' he says. 'I know you're not asleep, you liar!'

You groan and turn your face into the pillow, lying on your stomach so that you're as disengaged from this as possible.

'Dirk! Dirk! Dirk! Dirk!'

He flops dramatically on top of your back and you can't help but laugh. This is literally what you've wanted your entire life and it's from your most platonic of bros. Not that this is inherently romantic or anything, it's just you fucking hate mornings and the idea of being woken up nicely (why does your dumb touch-starved brain interpret a bulky dude lying on top of you and giggling as being woken up nicely?) is something you wished for a lot growing up. You just wanted someone else to tell you that you had to get up and do all the things you had to do. It's hard work kicking your own ass into gear.

'Hey, Dirk?' John says.

'Yeah ...' you say, reluctantly.

'Did you wear your hair gel to bed?'

'I don't wear hair gel,' you sigh. 

John heaves himself so that he's lying on you in a less perpendicular way and shoves his hands in your hair. Your lungs are starting to protest this, but you're pretty sure you can roll him off you when it gets too much, so you're not too worried. He rolls your hair in between his fingers as if feeling for the stiffness that comes with product. You can't help but relax. It's really ... nice. Roxy brushes your hair sometimes, but it usually takes you a long while to stop feeling like you're a burden on her and enjoy the treat. 

'What the hell?' he asks. 'Why is it always so spikey?'

'I shower before bed and it dries ... upwards,' you say. 

'Hmm,' John says. He's just combing his fingers through your hair now. You actually might fall back asleep, even though he's heavy on your back. Suddenly he tugs on your hair and you jolt awake. You have no idea when your body decided you're allowed to let your guard down that much around him. Presumably you wouldn't have  _actually_ fallen asleep.

'Dirk! We only have a few hours to get you ready!' John says.

You groan. 

'What on earth is going to take me that long?' you ask.

'I've been reliably informed that you have never taken a quick shower in your life! And Rose is trusting me! This is serious business, Dirk!'

When John rolls off you, you're actually a bit disappointed by the loss of weight. It was strangely comforting. You roll over onto your back and squint up at him.

'I'm not entirely hopeless,' you say. 'I'm not a Harlglish. I wore clothes the whole time during the apocalypse and I continue to do so.'

'You're not wearing clothes now!' John says, waggling his eyebrows.

You sit up and throw back the covers to show that you are, in fact, wearing a tank top and boxers. So motherfucking decent. Which, yeah, that was a fucking gamble on John's part. You live alone, there's never been any reason for you to wear clothes. Of course, casual nudity takes a degree of comfort with yourself that you don't think you've ever experienced outside of the reassuring weight of your very high pressure shower.

'Ha! Got you up!'

You're so mad that you fell for that. God damn. You glare at John, who is grinning cheekily at you, looking very comfortable with his hands behind his head and all snuggled into your bed. What an asshole. Ironic that this is the most action your bed has seen all year. You sigh and put your shades on before leaving John in favour of coffee. Coffee won't trick you like this.

Of course by the time you walk to the kitchen John has already breezed himself in and is rifling around in your cabinets for mugs. You don't know why he's having difficulty finding shit, your system makes perfect sense and he's here all the time. You open the right door and give him his usual mug, the one with "no.1 cock muncher" written on the side. There was a moment there when you thought he was going to find a different stupid mug to use, right after Jake (rightly so) questioned why John would be the one out of the two of you to have that title and John nearly died choking on his coffee, but he's stubborn and that's his mug. Yours says "welcome to the gun show" and the handle is in the shape of a flexing bicep. It's beautiful.

You move around each other automatically, habits born of John being your most frequent visitor and you both agreeing that he isn't entitled to being waited on. He takes stupid shit out of your pantry, trying to get you to fuck up and put it in your coffee instead of sugar, like he always does and you put the shit back where it belongs and make toast. You don't ask him if he's eaten. You know he only eats Dad's cooking when there are other people also being cooked for and Dad won't let him cook for himself when he could be spoiling him. It's well-intentioned. It just hits John too close to home. 

You eat breakfast in relative silence. You're not chatty in the mornings and John only is when he feels like he has to front. You can see him thinking, but you aren't about to prod that hornet's nest. If he wants to talk, he'll talk. You're not his keeper and he's much better at diverting you than Jake ever was, so you're not in the habit of trying to start uncomfortable conversations. Leave that shit to his actual friends, you're just the guy he hangs out with when they're all coupled up or whatever the poly version for that is.

After breakfast, John pushes you in the direction of the shower. You make a big deal of needing to go via your bedroom to get new clothes to change into and then spend way too long picking out a towel just to protest the fact that he feels the need to push you at all. 

'You realise that if I shower now that no one will recognise me unless i actually do use gel. And I don't have any,' you say as you pull the curtain shut. You hear John sit on the floor next to the bath. He does this sometimes, keeps you company as you shower so that you don't wander off inside your own brain for hours. You were very unnerved the first couple of times, but the more you're exposed to John's particular brand of shit, the more you find yourself loosening up about your more stupid boundaries. He legitimately doesn't give a shit if you're naked in proximity to him. Your broship is just that platonic.

'I've got a plan for that!' John says. 'I dry my hair with the breeze now and it comes out spikey; I bet I could recreate your stupid style.'

'Your flattery warms my goddamn heart,' you tell him. You kick your boxers and tank out of the shower and hopefully not in the direction of John. You turn the water on and grit your teeth against the cold. The first bit is always the hardest. Almost as soon as you're completely wet, it becomes a lot easier to handle. 

You rigged up your new place exactly the same as your old apartment, pumping seawater through your pipes for everything. Back before the game it was a question of efficiency. You had limited resources and seawater is just as good to clean yourself and your clothes as fresh water, you weren't going to waste time desalinating the masses of water you use in your showers, nor were you going to waste power on heating it unless you had been diving deep into the ocean and needed to warm up or die. Now it's a matter of familiarity. The smell of your clothes after Dad kindly washed them with his store bought soap and filtered water was impossible to tune out and your senses felt overwhelmed and on edge until you gave in and spent a month taking apart your house and rebuilding it how you like it. 

Dave showered at your house once when he'd stayed overnight playing video games and gossiping with you and called you a madman for wanting it like that on purpose, but apart from that, no one else apart from you is affected by your weird choices. Rose has told you that you're allowed to be weird. She says it's impressive you can function in society at all. Mind you, she says that with the kind of smile that makes you wonder if she really thinks you're functional or if she's taking the piss.

John's voice interrupts your daydreaming at some point. You have no idea how long it's been, as per fucking usual. You make the decision not to beat yourself up about that. 

'So, I think one of us needs to catch that bouquet,' John says. 

'Enlighten me as to why.'

' _Because_ ,' he says, 'everyone else is all settled too much as it is! I can stand Rose and Kanaya getting married because they're the perfect fucking couple or something, I don't know, they're  _allowed_. But is  _Dave_ gets married, I will flip my shit, Dirk, I honestly will. And those three are chaos monsters! They just would! It's insane!'

You make a noise to indicate that you're listening and maybe agree. You don't want to interrupt what could be an honest-to-god John Egbert freak out. He needs to get this shit off his chest.

'And don't even get me started on Jane and Jake! Dad  _already_ asks me when I'm going to settle down! They've been together five minutes! And Jane's older than me, anyway! I think.'

'I'm pretty sure you're literally the exact fuckin' age,' you say. 'On the other hand, Jane has been emotionally 40 since she was 8, so yeah, you got some catchin' up to do.'

'Exactly!' John says. 'And Roxy and Callie ... Okay, I don't  _actually_ have a reason why I don't want them to get married, but I'm pretty sure I still don't want that! Because it's a slippery slope!'

'You know Roxy considers Callie her wife already, right?'

John ignores you. You roll your eyes at your shower curtain.

'So! We can totally conspire to catch it! I mean, you're going to be the one to catch it, you're the one who can actually do that, but I will absolutely tackle anyone else who gets in your way, okay?'

'You're insane and I won't have any part of this plan,' you say calmly. 

'Dirk. I  _dare_ you.'

You freeze in the middle of reaching to turn the tap off. Shit. A dare. Well, you can't say no to a dare.

'You know what the stakes are if you say no,' John warns. 

You sure fuckin' do. You finally turn the tap off and reach for your towel. You really can't afford to be dressed as a chicken for the next week. You know John wouldn't let you put it off until after the wedding, and frankly, you wouldn't want him to. What kind of precedent does that set, what, that you can just put off the punishment if it's inconvenient to you? You dry yourself, recaptchalogue your shades onto your face and wrap your towel firmly around your waist before pulling the curtain back. 

John looks at you expectantly from the floor. 

'Yeah ...' you sigh. 

'Yes!' he says, pumping the air and floating happily to his feet. No one uses their powers as much on a minute to minute basis as John. Everyone else is human or troll first, player second, but John moves like flying is his first thought and he only walks because otherwise doorways would be inconvenient. He twirls his finger and the small gust of wind that he generated from jumping up transforms into your personal hair drying hurricane. You look in the mirror and are pretty impressed. It might even be better than how you usually do it. 

You go to pull your underwear on underneath your towel but John snatches them out of your hand. You raise your eyebrow at him incredulously.

'Are you serious?' he says. 'You're going to put these on underneath a suit? You know your pants are tailored, right? You want people to be looking at you and wondering if you're wearing something dumb on your boxers? Because it's you, Dirk, the natural assumption is that your underwear is dumb.'

Wow. You think you might be too taken aback to be properly insulted. You follow John to your bedroom anyway and watch him rifle through your underwear drawer with your arms crossed and your face appropriately judgey. 

'Okay, put these on and show me.'

'You want to see me in my underwear.'

'I want to see if I have to go out and buy you a pair that won't ruin the line of your pants, yeah!' 

He crosses his arms and looks at you impatiently. You pull the briefs on and self-consciously arrange yourself before shoving your towel in your sylladex.

'Should I do a twirl?' you ask dryly. 

'Yeah, actually, that'd be good,' he says. 

You walk in an exaggeratedly slow circle. John stares at your ass critically. This is basically your living nightmare. 

'You have a surprisingly cute butt,' he says, sounding absolutely too surprised. 

'Almost sounded like a compliment up until the point where you make it sound like I have never given you reason to believe this before,' you say. 

'Well you haven't,' he says, very matter-of-fact. 

'Can I put pants on now?'

'Undershirt first, we're not monsters here!'

Of course, not wearing an undershirt is definitely the mark of a monster. You have to wait in your underwear while John re-irons your shirt and pants, apparently not satisfied with how the shop did it. He shines your shoes as well, and you have to slap his hands hard enough to make them go a bit red to stop him from tucking your shirt into your pants. 

You put to practice your incredible denial skillz when he ties your bow tie. Whatever your feelings are about the confident pressure on your neck and the fact that he's so close you can feel the heat from his body and the look of concentration that he's directing entirely at you ... Nope, those are dangerous thoughts that have no place in your head. He tugs on it to make sure it's firm when he's done and you stumble impossible closer to him, your chest touching his for the briefest moment before you step back again, posture military correct to compensate for how disordered your feelings might possibly be. 

You swallow and keep quiet. He's John. He sees nothing unusual about this. You are the most platonic of bros. Somehow he's the most off-limits in your brain, even though he's also your only single friend. No, precisely because of that. You don't need to be giving yourself any kind of permission to be making shit weird. John flicks your collar down to cover the tie, entirely oblivious to your stupid thoughts. He fastens your suspenders with the same efficient flicks he's done everything, but the feel of him smoothing down the elastic material to keep it from being twisted feels way too ... His fingers are pressing down from your shoulder to your hip in line with your nipple, you are not to blame for how this is making you feel. You deserve a fucking medal for boner-suppression. You wish he would talk, to break the tension. He doesn't, he just fastens the first strap and repeats the same process with the second. 

He steps back to look at you critically, his usually joyful face made serious by his focus. You hold your hands out and give him another mostly-ironic twirl. 

'Will I do?' you ask, when you're facing him again. 

'If you spill a single thing on this suit, Dirk, I swear to god, I'll take you apart by the atoms and scatter you through paradox space for the gods to eat.'

'Yes, sir,' you say. Holy shit.

John finally smiles again and you breathe a little easier. 

'Okay! Now I just have to get ready!'


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rosemary wedding feat. John's Trickster enhanced denial skills.

Dirk warns you that his shower is cold saltwater and you just casually dunked yourself into it anyway, thinking that actually after all that intensity with dressing him, that might be a good thing! But it's fucking freezing, and you're pretty glad that he chose to lean against the wall of the bathroom while you shower so that he can hear you cuss out his showering choices in real time.

'You have to put your head under,' he says.

'I actually showered last night, I'm probably fine!' you say.

'I could go under the house and turn the boiler on but, like ... cobwebs and shit.'

'Don't you dare!'

'Seriously dude, just dunk yourself under, just like you're at the beach. Worst part's the beginning.'

'I've never been to the beach!'

Dirk is silent on the other side of the shower curtain, presumably judging the hell out of you. Not your fault you lived inland! You take a deep breath and stand under the water like he told you to.

'Fuck! Shit! Fuck! Gah!' you splutter.

After you've finished swearing, it kind of gets better. You still hurry through your washing. How Dirk stays in here for hours at a time, you have no idea.

He makes an awkward excuse about wanting to check on his ironic father of the bride speech when you get out. Standing in his bathroom in just a towel, you suddenly remember that he's gay. That he likes boys and in fact, liked Jake for quite a while. Who looks a lot like you. Hmm.

Well, Dirk's just an awkward guy! You're sure he doesn't think of you like that. You're just bros! It would be insane if he thought of you with any kind of gay feelings, because you're not gay. So ... yeah, that solves that problem. You don't know why that realisation is slightly disappointing to you. Probably just because it's nice to feel attractive sometimes.

You use your breeze to get dressed. You probably could have done that for Dirk too, but you haven't done it for anyone that isn't you and you think it probably would have unnerved him, even though you have excellent control. People like it better when you act like a person.

You're both ready with plenty of time to spare, something that Dirk points out to you by counting out the exact amount of extra time you could have let him sleep for. You distract him by telling him that he looks kind of like Dave in a suit. He abandons you immediately to find a mirror. What an adorable idiot. For a guy who thinks he's cluey, he's awfully easy to trick.

You tuck your shared invitation into your inside jacket pocket, even though there's no risk them not knowing you're invited. and offer him your arm when it's time to head over there. He takes it after only the slightest hesitation.

'I feel bad, bro,' he says. 'I didn't get you flowers or anything. Pretty shitty date you got saddled with.'

You laugh as you transport him to the venue with your glowy retcon powers. You appear at the bottom of the hill, just a little bit apart from Roxy and Callie who are the only ones apart from you who are there.

'You'll have to make it up to me on the dance-floor,' you tell him.

'Prepare to be disappointed,' he tells you. 'I've been reliably informed that an actual zombie would move less stiffly than me when I dance. And Kanaya has experience with zombies.'

You're interrupted by Roxy and Callie hugging you. Dirk doesn't put his arm back around yours after he's been released, which is dumb, because it's like he's never played gay chicken before. You're winning by a lot. You used to win against Davesprite too. You're basically the best at this.

Everyone else arrives pretty soon after you guys do. Dirk gets stolen by Jade and Jake so they can gush over his suit, something that makes you feel proud, but also makes you laugh at how uncomfortable Dirk is by their compliments. Dave stands next to you, hands deep in his pocket, comfortable in his suit like no one else really is. You bet he wore his dorky suits the whole time on the meteor.

'Dude, you made my brother hot,' Dave says. 'I mean, not that he wasn't already hot, no, wait, that wasn't the problem with what I said. Like, you made him look like he could be my dad. Oh god, that's worse. I mean, technically he is my dad, but we don't think and/or talk about that and also why would he being my dad make him hotter, I mean, your dad sure is an advertisement for what a hot dad looks like but that doesn't mean that my dad would be hot. Or like, that dadness as a quality is a hot one.'

'You should probably stop talking,' you tell him.

'You're not wrong. I'm gonna go talk to Mom. Roxy. Fuck.'

Dave slouches away awkwardly to talk to Roxy and Jane, so you let yourself dissolve until you're standing next to Dirk again. Jake jumps a little, but Jade and Dirk don't react at all. Jade uses her space powers like you do and Dirk's just used to the way you do it.

'You did a good job!' Jade says. 'Karkat and Dave had to spend over an hour combing out my hair though, so I think we win! You have no idea how much the Bec in me is telling me I need to find a good puddle to roll in. I think I can make it through the ceremony at least.'

You really, really want to see Jade rolling around in a puddle in her fancy strapless dress. You're not sure you've ever wanted anything more.

'So, the dreaded first date!' Jake says, his eyes crinkly with mischief. 'How's it faring so far? Blink twice if you need a daring rescue! Not that I'm suggesting you give my Dirk here the wind, John, though if anyone was to do so ...'

'It's fine, Jake,' Dirk says. 'You know we're not really dating, right?'

You gasp as if deeply offended.

'After all I've done for you!' you say, hand on your heart.

'Waking me up at fuck-off o'clock is not a service I needed from you, John,' Dirk says, smirking, 'and I'm pretty sure the only part of getting me ready that was in doubt was my fashion taste, which Jane fixed anyway. But if you really want to play, I'll play.'

'Ooh!' Jade says, her tail wagging slightly in excitement. 'What are the stakes?'

'We're gods,' Dirk says, frowning a bit. 'There's not much we can give each other. Except I guess embarrassment of some kind. Which, like, I'm already in a suit. Apparently there will be dancing. I'm balls deep in Dirk Discomfort Land, ain’t many ways you can improve on this.'

'Slave for a day!' Jake suggests. 'Like in Yu-Gi-Oh!'

Dirk stares at Jake, looking a bit stunned. You think that sounds like an excellent idea, considering Dirk is losing pretty handily so far and you've never lost this game.

'Make it a week!' you say.

Dirk turns his shocked expression on you. You grin at him, wondering what you'll make him do for you. You'll probably just make him fetch things while you and Dave play video games or something for the most part, but you bet you can think of something really big for the main event.

'Fine,' he says, composing himself and holding his hand for you to shake.

You take it with both your hands and shake eagerly. He holds you in place.

'First one to say ... Jake?' Dirk says, because naturally Jake is the one you go to for phrases that won't come up in natural conversation.

'Cease and desist?' he suggests.

'Sure,' Dirk says. 'First one to say "cease and desist" forfeits and has to be the other one's slave for a week.'

You nod and he brings his other hand up so that you both shake double-handed. When you release him, he's somehow sneakily arranged it so that you're still holding hands. You're actually impressed by that, you didn't think he was smooth at all.

Not that holding hands is really upping the stakes much. You swing your arms together idly as you talk, up until Roxy tells you all it's time to take your seats.

You sit together, obviously. Rose and Kanaya enter behind you and everyone turns to look. You let go of Dirk's hand so you can twist in your seat.

They look beautiful. Kanaya is ethereal in her wedding dress, looking exactly as a vampire on her wedding day should look, in your opinion, and Rose is pulling off her suit better than anyone else in the room. Anyone else getting married this young would make you panic. You look at them, sharing a look that is just loaded with love as they walk towards The Mayor, and you know they're going to be fine.

The ceremony is short and sweet. They read their own vows, and then Karkat gets up and reads a poem he wrote himself. You see a movement in the corner of your eye and turn to see Jade putting her arm around Dave, who is openly crying listening to Karkat talk about how watching Rose and Kanaya's love gave him the courage to find love himself.

As Karkat takes his seat again, Dirk leans close to you and you jump a little before leaning in as well so he can whisper.

'Okay, I get what you were saying about this shit being contagious,' he says.

You nod emphatically. He sits back again, smiling at you gently. Your stomach does a strange little flip of nerves before you force yourself to look back to the front. The Mayor names Rose and Kanaya lawfully married and Kanaya dips Rose for a tasteful kiss. Everyone claps and you find yourself smiling so hard it hurts.

Everything is a blur of people moving, Jade and Roxy combining their powers to pull in food and lights and other bits and pieces. Dad and Jane bring out a ginormous cake and Callie brandishes a colourful lollipop.

'Callie, no!' Roxy says, rushing towards her.

'Oh fuck,' Dirk says, wrapping his arms securely around you and flashstepping in the opposite direction and behind a table. It makes you feel dizzy in a way that your breezy and game-breaky powers never do.

'What's going on?' you ask.

'That thing greatly contributed to the worst day of my life,' he says.

'A lollipop?'

He glares at you over his shades. His hands are still on your shoulders, like he's going to run away again.

'Instant acid trip for everyone who isn't me. I'm too uptight. Still fuckin' felt the hangover, though. Until I died. We're not going near that thing, John, I swear to—'

You hear the sound of Roxy laughing loudly and turn towards it. Dirk grabs your neck and forces you to focus back on him.

'We're getting out of here,' he says. 'Take us home.'

'No?' you say, incredulous. 'It's Rose's wedding!'

'John, I swear to god, it's too late for them.'

He's talking about this like they're zombies! You try and look again but he holds you firm. You roll your eyes and breeze through his hands until you're standing. Hmm, Roxy's kissing Jane with a lot of enthusiasm there, is that allowed? Oh, and they're changing? Like grimdark, but ... chipper. Hey, have you seen this before?

Jane is now kissing Dave, who is blushing furiously, his hands moving around crazily like he doesn't know where to put them. You really don't know how you feel about that. Callie looks like she feels good about it, clapping her hands and pushing Roxy towards Jake.

'They look happy,' you say to Dirk. He's holding onto your wrist, but you're not worried. You don't get touched when you don't want to be touched anymore.

'Worst day of my life, John. Grew up after the apocalypse. Worst day of my life. No competition.'

'I think it's probably fine!'

You phase out from Dirk's grip and over to Callie. She holds the lollipop out to you invitingly and any doubt you might have been holding onto fades away. You lick it and your body explodes into tingles that kind of make you want to sneeze and make you feel like all your hair is standing on end.

You grin at Callie and she goes to hug you happily, but you're too ghosty and she passes right through you! This is unspeakably funny to you and you float upwards slowly as you laugh. You look at the rest of the room. It feels vital that everyone join you in this state. Almost everyone is, and they're all crowding around Dirk, who is backing back slowly.

You guess they've got it covered! You watch as he trips backwards into a chair. Jake floats into his lap and pulls him by the lapels of his jacket until they're kissing. Dirk's suit changes from the lovely navy colour to a lurid teal and his glowing hands find their way to Jake's hair. He's kissing him back.

You ... don't like that.

You know what, you don't need to think about why that is or even remember this. Once you realise that, you're much happier. You float through your brain just as easily as you float through the room, touching moments only as frequently as you touch the ground. You're aware of dancing with everyone, of eating cake, of listening as everyone stands up and delivers speeches.

'I'm the dad of Rose and this is good,' Dirk says, which is honestly an improvement on the speech he was practising.

'I'm love these lesbians,' says Dave. You think that might have actually been what he was planning on saying anyway.

At one point, you end up in a nice group hug with Rose and Jade and Dave.

'This is good,' you say.

'You're all ... so hot,' Dave says. 'It's hard, having all these hot friends and only being allowed to kiss some of them. We should just all marry everyone, that would solve everything.'

Rose sighs and pats Dave condescendingly on the head. Somehow, she has avoided the tricksterness, but you don't seem to mind that much. Every time you’ve tried to infect her, she’s stepped to the side as if she knew exactly what you were doing. You’re not sure why she doesn’t want this! You all look awesome!

'I'm really glad to have you all here,' she says. 'Even though you all got high on alien drugs.'

You don't fancy remembering the rest of the conversation, except for the part where you phased out of the group hug and Jade fell into Rose. That was funny.

'John, I'm sorry,' Rose says.

'I don't care,' you say cheerfully. You don't! You don't even remember it!

You float over to where Kanaya and Dirk are slow dancing. He smiles at you sleepily. She spins him away from her and he ends up in your arms because it was that or let him fall over. She blinks at you forcefully because she can’t wink and then walks gracefully over to where Rose and Dave are still cuddling. You don’t know where Jade’s gone.

‘Hey,’ Dirk says.

'Hi there!' you say. 'Are you okay?'

'I'm so okay,' he says. 'Dude, I'm the chillest. My arms are made of chill.'

'Um ... okay?'

Dirk shifts his arms so that he's practically hanging off your neck and you hold his waist automatically. His eyes are intense behind his shades, and he's looking right at you. It makes you look at the rest of his face because it's less to worry about. His hair is orange-red rather than blond and his lips look fuller somehow. Fuller and pinker, everything about his face is just standing out more than usual.

'Am I dancing?' Dirk asks.

You're standing pretty still. But you guess you are holding each other in a dancey way. You step to the side and he follows you smoothly, so you move again, just tiny steps back and forth.

'Yeah,' you say. 'Better than a zombie.'

You can feel his waist moving under your hands, soft and swaying. He's loads better than a zombie. Not that you've danced a lot. You and Jade had dance parties on the boat sometimes but they mostly involved jumping on beds a lot, not anything like this.

'We could leave,' Dirk says. 'Lots of people have left. We could leave too.'

'Where would we go?'

Dirk's glasses flash blindingly white and he flinches away from you, pulling them off.

'What the fuck, dude?' he groans.

He puts his shades back on and you watch as his cheeks blush red.

'I ... gotta go ...' he says. 'Thanks for the dance.'

He kicks off the ground and flies away. You could catch him, but you're too confused to try. You're starting to feel tired. Dave is lying under a table over there, you're gonna go lie with him. It looks like a nice place to be.


	4. Chapter 4

John is warm and steady and strong and he's leading you through the first dance of your life that you've wanted to participate in. The Trickster magic is working on you, but not in the same way as everyone else. 

You're not manic and you’re aware of your altered state. You're definitely in control of your actions. But everything is easier, like someone's turned the volume down on life and you can finally take your hands away from your ears. 

John isn't your most platonic friend. He's the dude you've been in love with for months and you've got no idea why you were denying this to everyone, including yourself. You like being in his arms and he's smiling at you in this gorgeous way that makes you think if you kissed him, he'd be even happier. 

You're the only ones on the dancefloor but this is still too public. You want him all to yourself.

'We could leave,' you say. 'Lots of people have left. We could leave too.'

'Where would we go?' John asks. Your heart leaps. He didn't say no. 

And then your shades sear white light into your eyes and you have to recoil away from him, away from the pain. Holy shit, your eyes are more sensitive than most, your shades are supposed to help that not pull this shit on you.

'What the fuck, dude?' you groan, addressing Hal, but also the world in general.

You put your shades back on so that he can answer you.

Dirk, don't be a fucking idiot.  
You're high, he's straight.  
Sexuality's complicated, dude. We don't know anything about anyone.  
Do not force yourself on someone who is under the influence.

You ... hadn't even considered that. You're usually better than this. You feel your face warm and tears prick at your eyes as you feel the full impact of what you could be like if you didn't have someone keeping you in check. 

'I ... gotta go ...' you say. Somehow your voice comes out kind of normal. 'Thanks for the dance.'

You fly away as fast as you can, knowing that John can catch anyone he wants and that the only way you're getting out of here is if you make it really clear that you're absolutely leaving. The moment you get into your house, you collapse on the floor, not even making it out of the entrance way. 

'I'm sorry,' you say to Hal.

You didn't do anything, Dirk.

'I could have.'

I don't think you could have. Would you like me to run the numbers and compare them to the average? 

'No.'

You're crying. It's really weird.

Dirk, intense emotional swings are a very common effect of drinking or anything that attacks your reasoning, and Trickster magic certainly does that. Hell, even just the emotional come down of leaving a party can have this effect on people. 

'Am I back to normal yet?'

No, not yet.  
I don't think it'll be long, though.   
You should go to bed.

You ignore him, choosing instead to close your eyes. You're tired and sad and heavy.

*

When you wake up, everything hurts. It might even be worse than your last hangover, which incidentally was also your first hangover. Didn't exactly inspire a repeat performance. Your body ached then as well, but you think it's also hurting because you passed out face first on your goddamn carpet. At least you didn't throw up. 

You open your eyes cautiously and Hal immediately messages you, telling you he told you to go to bed and he would have told you to get water and other sensible things on your way had you listened to him, but you minimise his window. You minimise all windows, just using the shades to keep the light out of your eyes, which even with them on feels way too bright. Your eyes are clogged with sleep, and even though you scrub at them with your knuckles, it doesn't seem to do much.

Your mouth feels like a desert crawled into it and died, leaving zombie sand there. You open and close your mouth, trying to work up enough saliva to swallow, but apparently that's not on the cards. The best you get is a slightly sticky feeling. You groan, not out of any expectation for your circumstances to change, just to express your sincere disappointment in the way that your morning is going so far.

You close your eyes again, hoping that you'll be able to fall asleep. Your body informs you that you are more likely to either piss yourself or die from the red hot poker that's currently being pushed through your eye socket. Oh wait, that's a headache. That's a headache? No, this needs a new word. It's so much more physical than any headache has right to be. 

You press your hands firmly to your eye where the pain is and have no idea if it helps. You think it might? But then it's back and you can actually feel your heartbeat throbbing through your eye and into your palm. How. 

Okay, that's it. There's no recovering from this. You have to die. You'll come back, there's nothing heroic or just about a hangover. You extend your arm with a miserable flop and decaptchalogue your katana. Oh god it's heavy. 

Dirk, what are you doing?

'Dying,' you groan. 

You put every bit of energy you have into your arm and focus on chopping your own head off. You get your hand maybe half a foot off the ground before it falls again and your sword bounces away. No! Three inches might as well be three miles at the moment.

Oh my God, you're such a drama queen. 

You minimise Hal's window again and decaptchalogue a fancy Santa. It's heavy, too. Life is certainly unfair this morning.

Before you can attempt to beat yourself to death with a porcelain Christmas decoration, the door opens and you hear high heels enter your house. 

'Good morning, father,' Rose says cheerily. 

You groan inarticulately for long enough that your voice starts to rasp. It's not that long. 

'Yes, I suspected you might feel that way,' she says. Oh God she sounds smug.

'Fuck off,' you tell her. It doesn't come out sounding precisely how you want it to, but you think she gets the message.

She crouches down next to you and hands you a water bottle. You would cry if you had any moisture in you at all. Instead, you open it and pour it indiscriminately over your face, wetting your lips and unsticking your eyelashes and making you feel at least 3% fresher. It's a big difference from where you're sitting. Laying. 

'Okay, up you get,' she says.

She cradles the back of your neck and pulls your shoulder until you're sitting on the floor. You feel yourself sway slightly and the room seems to sway a lot more than you do. 

'Now actually get some in your mouth,' she says, handing you the water bottle again.

Your hands are still way too heavy, but you manage to tip water in your mouth. You finish the bottle in small increments.

'I need to piss like a racehorse,' you slur at your daughter, the day after her wedding day. 

'I'm going to remind you of needing my help for this at frequent intervals throughout our immortal lives and I still am not sure that it will be worth it,' Rose says. 

She stands up and takes your hands in hers before pulling strongly. You can't help or resist but thanks to her being much stronger than she looks, she gets you to your feet. She throws your arm around her shoulders and walks you slowly to your bathroom. 

When you get to the toilet she just sits you on it and leaves you to figure the rest out yourself. You swear you piss for five straight minutes, and once you're done you smell coffee in the kitchen. It gives you strength to find your feet and stagger out.

Rose is sitting at your kitchen table, drinking coffee. In front of the chair opposite her is a complete place setting. There’s coffee, a slushie and a burger on a china plate that you know you don't own. There's silverware there too, also not yours. For a burger.

'Wha—' you say, intelligently. Intelligence is one of your strengths.

'Mother assures me it's a very reliable hangover cure. She says it's miraculous.'

Rose sips at her coffee, looking over her cup with satisfaction at your discomfort. You hate her.

Then you take a bite of the burger and drink the slushie and feel a bajillion per cent better. You love her. 

'Rose ...' you groan. 'Marry me.'

'Would you believe that's the third proposal I've had today? And not a single one from my wife.'

'Your wife ...' you groan. 'Rose, you shouldn't be here, you should be with Kanaya.'

She smiles at you softly and grabs your hand. When you first met her she could only touch the people she'd been on the meteor with casually, now she's like this affectionate machine of reassurance. You both like it and wish it didn't make you feel so emotionally stunted by comparison. 

'We’ll have rather a lot of time together on our honeymoon,' she reminds you. 'Seeing as we have no obligations to anything but our whims. I'm not leaving until I get some gossip.'

'I don't have gossip,' you reply automatically.

'Dirk,' she says sternly, looking down at your empty plate for a moment to remind you who brought you a burger in your time of need and then meeting your eyes again, 'you owe me.'

You'd grumble, but she's right. 

'I still don't have gossip,' you say. 

‘Last night, I was in the middle of a hug with my best friends in the world. I mentioned that you and John made a handsome couple to John and he got defensive when I persisted after his initial “it’s just a joke” response. Quite defensive.’

‘Rose, I’m so hungover …’

‘In my experience, a dragon doesn’t defend an empty patch of soil. There’s treasure to be found.’

‘Yeah, but if you poke a dragon with a stick in a weak point it’ll bite you regardless of where you happen to be standing, oh my God, Rose, my _head_.’

Rose frowns and sits back in her seat a bit.

‘I’m going to ask Hal.’

‘Go right ahead!’ you tell her. 

You have no idea how that would turn out. You don’t know what Hal’s stakes are in the you-and-John business, you don’t know if he’ll think it’s funny to reveal your feelings and you don’t know if he’ll resent Rose for asking after you instead of him. There’s a lot of ways Hal could interpret that. 

You really hope she’s bluffing so you don’t have to rely on him being on your side. 

‘I guess I’ll just go home to my wife,’ she sighs. Her mouth twitches into a small smile when she says “wife”. Damn that’s cute. 

‘Thank you so much for the burger.’

‘What’s the use growing up with an unhealthy relationship to alcohol if you don’t even get hangover cures out of it?’ Rose says as she stands up. 

There’s no use to that regardless of any outcomes. You don’t like hearing about how Roxy fucked up in her alternate life any more than you like hearing how you fucked up in your alternate life. Your heart aches to take over and erase her pain, even though you know that’s impossible. 

Angst is very incompatible with a hangover. You sip your coffee and awkwardly pat next to her hand as some kind of comforting gesture. She raises a perfect eyebrow at you and pulls her suit jacket straight again. You know she only started wearing them to prove she could pull it off just as well as Dave, but she really has made them her own. 

‘Make sure to swing by Dave’s when you’ve recovered. He’s _pitiful_ and there’s not a chance he’s beating you to healthy.’

<>

You laugh into your fist at what Hal’s joke. He responds with an emoticon of a winky face because he wants you to make a bigger fool of yourself in front of Rose. 

See, you don’t even live alone. You have Hal. He basically counts as a separate person, you’re pretty sure everyone agrees on that. And John visits almost every day, that counts, right?

ectoBiologist [EB] has begun pestering timaeusTestified [TT]

EB: so, got my first hangover.  
EB: not a fan of it!  
EB: how’s your head, sweet heart?  
TT: The fuck?  
EB: neither of us said the safe words last night i don’t think.  
EB: and i don’t want to be your slave for a week.  
EB: you’re welcome to give up!  
TT: Oh, you wish.  
TT: Muffin.  
EB: veto on the muffin nickname.  
TT: Well shit, you already took sweetheart.  
EB: you’ll get there.  
TT: My head’s revolting, by the way.   
TT: Someone seems to have repurposed it for storing more barbed wire than can fit inside it, and then vomited on it in disgust for the disregard of proper storage etiquette.   
EB: nice.  
TT: So, what, should we go on a date or something?  
EB: oh.  
EB: yeah, that would make sense.  
EB: i was actually going to ask you to see that new stupid action movie this week anyway.  
TT: Right, we probably have to do something to distinguish it from a regular hangout.   
TT: Shower, maybe.   
EB: you should probably shower anyway if your head feels like barbed wire and vomit.  
EB: also if you look anything like me.  
EB: and you should definitely turn the hot water on before you do.  
TT: Do you want me to disassociate right through our date?  
EB: i’ll let myself in and get you out before the movie starts.  
TT: You’re way too casual about entering my house without ascertaining my nudity status.   
EB: but baby, you love me!  
TT: Stop stealing all the good pet-names.


End file.
